


No Nuts

by CompulsiveBowlers



Category: Rent - Larson
Genre: Allergies, Domestic, Established Relationship, Hospitals, M/M, Sickfic, brief mention of April's death, kitchen shower
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-28
Updated: 2019-02-28
Packaged: 2019-11-06 19:42:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17945918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CompulsiveBowlers/pseuds/CompulsiveBowlers
Summary: Mark cooks dinner for Roger. The results are less than stellar.I suck at summaries. I promise the story is better than the summary makes it seem.





	No Nuts

Mark struggled up the stairs with the bags of groceries he had just bought. After six months, he was finally feeling better about taking the job at Buzzline, especially when it meant that he and Roger could afford to eat more than generic Cap’n Crunch without milk. Sure, the stories he was covering were awful, and he still died a little every time he had to listen to Alexi talk, but at least he could afford to feed his boyfriend a decent meal every night. As he approached the heavy metal door to the loft he and Roger called home, Mark could hear the faint sound of his boyfriend strumming his guitar. Roger had recently returned to playing the occasional gig, and Mark loved coming home to hear him working on a new song after a long day. He lingered at the door for a few minutes, not wanting to interrupt Roger’s creative process.

 

_ The desperate look in our eyes, holding on to one another _

_ Holding on for all our lives, just letting go to discover _

_ That love don't need a reason _

_ And love don't need a rhyme _

 

Mark recognized the song. Roger had been working on it for a few weeks now, and had finally built up the courage to play it for Mark last night, and admitted that it was about their relationship. 

 

Mark slowly slid the door open, trying to stay quiet so he wouldn’t interrupt Roger. He had almost made it in the door when the handle of one of the bags he was carrying ripped, and a jar of applesauce crashed to the floor, glass shattering and the sticky pureed apples covering Mark’s pants.

 

“Shit,” he muttered as he stepped past the broken jar to place the remaining bags on the large metal table in the center of the kitchen. 

 

Roger, hearing the sound of the glass breaking, put down his guitar and rushed into the kitchen to see what had happened. His expression softened when he saw Mark, pants coated in applesauce, standing in the kitchen.

 

“I guess we aren’t having applesauce tonight,” he mumbled as he gave Mark a soft kiss on the temple. 

 

“Sorry. I thought I could manage all the bags on my own, but I guess they were heavier than I thought,” Mark said sheepishly as he grabbed some paper towels to clean up the mess.

 

“Don’t worry about it. The floors could probably use a washing anyway,” Roger replied as he grabbed the mop from its place by the fridge. “Did you get anything good for dinner?”

 

“Pasta with pesto?” 

 

“Damn. Maybe working for Buzzline is changing you. What happened to our steady diet of bologna sandwiches and dry cereal,” Roger smirked as he peered into the shopping bags to see what else Mark had bought for them.

 

“Nah. The pesto was just on sale. Besides, you know I hate tomato sauce,” Mark replied as he finished cleaning up the mess he had made on the floor. “I got us some ice cream too. Can you stick it in the freezer?”

 

Roger looked into the bags to find the two cartons of ice cream Mark had picked for them. 

 

“Cotton candy? Really? You might as well just eat sugar out of the bowl.”

 

Mark shrugged and tossed the bag of broken glass into the trash can. 

 

“What? It tastes good!” 

 

Roger rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help but smile at the goofy grin on his boyfriend’s face. 

 

“You’re covered in applesauce still. Go shower.”

 

“Fine. Can you put on a pot of water to boil while I get cleaned up? I’m starving,” Mark said as he made his way over to the shower in the corner of the kitchen.

 

* * *

 

An hour later, Mark and Roger were sitting on the couch, each with a steaming plate of pasta coated in pesto and a slice of Italian bread. They sat in relative silence, both delighted to be eating something more substantial than cereal for a change. Roger was halfway through his plate when he noticed that it was getting really hard to breathe. He put his plate down as he started coughing, which quickly got Mark’s attention.

 

The first thing Mark noticed when he looked at his boyfriend was that his face was swelling. Badly. Roger could see the panicked look on Mark’s face and instantly knew that something was seriously wrong. The last time he had seen that look on Mark’s face was when they found April in the tub. 

 

“Mark,” Roger said, noticing that his tongue was much larger than normal, “My mouth feels funny.”

 

Mark could barely make out what Roger was saying to him, the words sounding more like jumbled noise than a coherent sentence. Within seconds, Mark was running to the phone to call for help. He could barely get the words out as he explained to the dispatcher that something was wrong with Roger and that they needed help. Roger had followed Mark into the kitchen and he was suddenly noticing how itchy he was. Hives were popping up all over his arms and chest, and when Mark noticed this, he began to freak out. Seeing Mark panic made Roger feel even more panicked, making it even harder to breathe. Mark noticed this, and tried his best to calm his boyfriend.

 

“Okay, okay. It’s all going to be okay. I promise. You’re going to be okay. Ambulance is coming. They’ll know what to do. It’s okay,” Mark rambled as he led Roger back to the couch, rubbing his back.

* * *

 

Ten minutes later, the ambulance arrived and the EMTs were running up the stairs to the loft. As soon as they saw Roger, covered in hives and swollen, they realized that he was having an allergic reaction and gave him a dose of epinephrine. They loaded him into the ambulance and reassured Mark that he would be fine. Mark stood on the street, watching the ambulance pull away, suddenly feeling unable to move. He wasn’t sure how long he stood there, but suddenly he felt Collins’ hand on his shoulder, leading him into a cab to head to the hospital. 

“You okay, man?” Collins asked as they made there way to the hospital. Mark was paler than usual, and there were tear stains down both of his cheeks.

 

“What the fuck just happened,” he finally managed to ask.

 

“I’m not sure. I just came over when I saw the ambulance outside your building. Figured you guys might need me.”

 

* * *

  
  


Twenty minutes later, Mark was sitting in the waiting room of the emergency room. Collins had gone to find some coffee and call Maureen and Joanne to let them know where they were. The doctors had informed Mark that Roger was stable, and that he had an allergic reaction, most likely to something he had eaten. They were running some tests to figure out exactly what he was allergic to, but their best guess at this point was the pine nuts in the pesto. 

 

Finally, after what felt like years, but was probably closer to an hour, a nurse, who introduced herself as Amy, came to get Mark, who was quietly crying in the waiting room. 

 

“Are you okay, sir?” she asked as she led Mark through the hallways towards Roger’s room.

 

“It’s all my fault,” Mark mumbled. “Why did I have to buy the stupid pesto? Why can’t I just like tomato sauce like a normal person?”

 

“Hey, hey. It’s not your fault. And you don’t even know if that’s what he reacted to,” she said as they reached the door to Roger’s room. “He’s right in here. He’s asleep right now. We gave him a lot of Benadryl to stop the reaction.”

 

Mark peered in through the door. The nurse was right, Roger was fast asleep in the bed, hooked up to an IV and the heart monitor, with oxygen tubing in his nose. Mark let out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding as he listened to the steady beeping of the heart monitor. The swelling in Roger’s face was starting to go down, but Mark could tell that his lips were still a bit puffy. He slowly made his way over to his boyfriend and laid a gentle kiss on his forehead before sitting down in the chair that the nurse had placed next to the bed. He fiddled with his shirt for a few minutes before reaching out to grab Roger’s hand. He found himself quietly singing the song Roger had been working on earlier that evening as he rubbed the back of his hand. 

 

_ Love don't need a reason _

_ And love don't need a rhyme _

 

Roger slowly opened his eyes, a soft smile on his face as he listened to his boyfriend singing to him. Mark noticed that Roger was waking up, and quickly stood up and wrapped him in a hug, relief washing over him. 

 

“What happened?” Roger asked groggily, resting his head on Mark.

 

“Apparently you’re allergic to nuts. Like, really allergic. How did you not know?” Mark asked.

 

“I dunno,” Roger replied, clearly still groggy from all of the medications he had been given. “I guess I don’t really eat them all that often.”

 

Shortly after Roger had woken up, the doctor had come in to explain what had happened. He told Roger that he would need to avoid all nuts and carry an EpiPen in case he was exposed to nuts again. A nurse came in and taught Mark how to administer the EpiPen, and Mark promised that he would teach Roger once he was more awake and capable of learning. After a few hours of observation, Mark was allowed to take Roger home. They stopped at the pharmacy on the way back to the loft to pick up Roger’s EpiPens and a bottle of Benadryl. As they waited at the register, Roger walked over to the display of candy bars. 

 

“Marky, they all have nuts,” he whined. 

 

“There must be something you can still eat,” Mark said as he walked over to help Roger find a snack. “Here, how about some Skittles?”

 

“Eww. I want chocolate!”

 

“What are you, four?” Mark laughed, making Roger pout. “Look, this one’s safe. Just plain milk chocolate.”

 

Roger grabbed the chocolate bar and carried it over to the register. Mark chuckled and followed him. He paid for the candy and the medication, again feeling grateful for his paycheck.

* * *

 

Twenty minutes later, they were back in the loft. Roger was curled up on the couch, still feeling groggy, but happy to be home. Mark was in the kitchen, going through every cabinet and removing anything with nuts. By the time he was done, he had two bags filled. He told Roger he was running downstairs to give the offending groceries to Mimi.

 

“Wait,” Roger called out to Mark, who was making his way to the door.

 

“What’s up? Do you need something?”

 

“There’s still one kind of nut that I can have,”

 

“What do you mean? The doctor said you-”

 

“Yours,” Roger smirked, watching his pale boyfriend turn bright red as he walked out the door.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Well, this is what happens when I try to avoid studying for midterms. Funny that I can sit and write a 5+ page fic in one sitting, but writing a single page for class takes me a week.
> 
> Partially inspired by the fact that I realized the allergen-free cookbook I just got was written by Adam Pascal's wife.
> 
> Song is Rhyme & Reason by Adam Pascal


End file.
